


Maybe Not Brave, Just Stupid

by goalielove43



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Calgary Flames, Frottage, Hook-Up, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scent Kink, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26067217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goalielove43/pseuds/goalielove43
Summary: Matthew breathes out something that could be interpreted as a laugh and then shakes his head, a wry sort of smile on his lips. "Bravery right there.""Or stupidity.""Both?""Could be both."
Relationships: Matthew Tkachuk/Tom Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	Maybe Not Brave, Just Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> https://matthewtkafuck.tumblr.com/post/188540110446 - I present you with all the unresolved sexual tension in the world right there. Boys got some want.  
> Honestly, I just wanted some straight up lust sex, so we're ignoring any SOs that might be around (or ya know, I know for sure are for Tom, not a clue on Matthew, I'm new to him.)

Tom isn't sure how long it's been going on like this. It can't have been that long for him to have ignored it until now. At least, he thinks it has to be that way. But now, he's just not so sure because when he squints real hard at the evidence, he thinks… it's been a while. 

A while since he started thinking about Matthew off the ice. A while since he started purposefully attempting to gain his attention. A while since he's passed up an opportunity to station himself right up against him when they're on at the same time. 

He doesn't think he's been imagining the way Matthew leans into it either. The want in the way he almost nuzzles into Tom's side. The words help, to be fair. The dirty things he says that could be taken as an insult or an invitation. The way he looks Tom up and down like he's thirsty instead of sizing up an opponent. 

Tom thinks that's exactly how _he_ sizes Matthew up, so he should really know what that look is.

So it's nothing really to slip away, pretend he's heading to cool down and instead go linger outside the guest locker rooms. He hopes their flight isn't leaving right after, though he wouldn't be surprised if it was. His mind skips over the things they could do, the places they could hide away to blow off some of this steam, and his dick gets with the program, which… not ideal. He's in UnderArmor and really, it doesn't hide a lot. 

A few of the other guys come out in suits, heading for the exit. Not one of them does more than glance at him and Tom resists the urge to adjust himself. Matthew's fourth out of the dressing room and his mass of curls is unruly, as always and for one moment Tom's caught on it, watching he way the curls bob and dance with his steps, but then Matthew's noticed him and he yanks his gaze down to his face.

Straightening up, he jerks his head away from where the others have gone. "Got a second?"

"Sure. Yeah." Matthew follows along after Tom as he leads the way down a couple corridors to get them well away from any prying ears. They settle against opposite walls and Tom finds some amusement in the fact that they both protectively cross their arms over their chests. 

This is the hard part. The part where he could say the wrong thing to the wrong person and everything in his life could come crashing down on him. Or it's the place where he's right and this is easy and nothing's wrong at all. 

"So, ah," he hesitates and then clenches down hard on the urge to turn this into something else and goes in deep, just like he always does. "I was thinking if you weren't headed out right this moment, you could come back to my place for a few." Okay, maybe he could have been a little more blunt.

He watches Matthew's eyes narrow for a moment and then sees the slow rake of his gaze up and down Tom's body. He knows his dick is still obvious, is kind of glad it's pressed up tight against him, but the shape of it will be unmistakable. A little heat rises to Matthew's cheeks and he clears his throat, arms crossing tighter and Tom thinks if he'd bother to get a suit that fit him right that maybe it'd be straining with how hard he's stoved up right now.

Tom waits him out as long as he can, but when he gets no reply, he finally takes the usual nosedive off a cliff. It's not new for him, in fact it's pretty much the only way he knows how to pick up and one might think he would be smoother than this, but he's really not. "To fuck," he clarifies, and it ignites something deep inside him when Matthew's nostrils flare, when his mouth drops open. "I'm serious," he follows it up with, because apparently he also likes signing his own death warrant.

Matthew loosens up a bit and studies his face for what seems like far too long before he sighs. "I can't go back to your place, we leave for the airport from here. But," he shifts and pulls up the too-big arm of his suit jacket and studies his watch, "I have twenty before someone comes looking for me."

That's as good as deal sealed for Tom and well, it's not his first hookup in the arena. He knows the exact right place.

Pushing away from the wall, he leads the way deeper into the bowels of the massive complex, finally pushing open a room they all escape to when they need a few minutes to cool off, however that may be. He tosses the little red charm around the door handle that signifies to others to stay the fuck out and closes the door behind them, immediately backing Matthew up against it, pushing his hand into those unruly curls, tugging, messing, and then his tongue is invading Matthew's mouth and he groans into it when he gets as good as he's giving. Hands in his hair and then roaming, pulling at his UnderArmor, desperate yanks and tugs and Tom gives in so very easily, knowing they only have twenty minutes. Nothing fancy here, just two men giving in to their lust for one another. Two guys getting their rocks off in the fastest way possible.

He lets go of Matthew's hair and drops into a crouch, unzipping him and palming his growing erection through the cloth until he's fully hard before freeing him to the air of the room and leaning in to take him into his mouth. He licks and sucks and honestly drools more than he has to because it'll feel better like that in a minute. He gets Matthew's pants the rest of the way undone and when he stands, he rucks his shirt up to see and feel those post-skate abs.

Pinning him to the door, he goes back in for a kiss, sharing the taste of Matthew's dick with him, the faint hint of precum still smeared across his tongue. Matthew groans and grabs his ass and Tom yanks his UnderArmor and jock out of the way and then presses back in, all hot need and desperate fire. They're slick against one another like this, with Tom's spit and sweat slicking the way and he thinks on how he still stinks from the rink, how he's funking Matthew back up for the plane ride and that lights something else in his gut. It's like marking him, claiming him in some bizarre way as his own prize for tonight. Matthew will wreak but it'll be Tom's stink on his skin.

Matthew's hands get under the elastic of his shorts, right on his ass and cling to him, pressing deep into the muscle as they rut hungrily against the door. It's not pretty by any means, they probably look like a fucking disaster, hair sticking up, one sweat slicked and one in an ill-fitting suit. It probably looks as much like porn as it feels like and Tom grins into the kiss, almost laughs if it weren't for the rising orgasm in his gut. His balls are tight already and the fire between them is everything he thought it would be and so much more.

He's not going to last much longer. Matthew breaks their kiss and moves under Tom's jaw to nip and lick there and Tom grunts, his hips jerking and it doesn't take but a few more seconds before he's losing the battle against cumming. With a low groan, he spills, cock jerking against Matthew's, his cum spurting hot against his dick and his lower abdomen and Tom ruts with it, smears his mess with a desperate sort of enthusiasm, mouth hanging open and his whole world rocked by a backroom rub-off. 

Matthew grips him tighter, ruts hungrily against him, and it's with a full-body shudder that he cums. He's quiet, a little double-hitch of breath, and then thick hot cum spurts all over Tom's dick and groin and Tom arches into it, wanting to be painted in someone else's jizz. He loves this part, loves wearing his lover's cum like a badge of goddamned armor. 

When he gets the chance, he captures Matthew's mouth again and kisses him soundly before stepping back and sliding his jock back into place, then his UnderArmor, zero cleaning happening for him. He knows Matthew sees it, watches him gape at it, and he just smirks at him and turns to grab the tissues they keep in here to hand some to Matthew. He watches him clean, meticulous about it, and Tom doesn't look away for the whole thing.

Matthew does his pants back up and Tom leans back on the arm of the nice executive chair they keep in here. "Always up for this, just find me. I figured the tension had grown enough and took the chance… guess I was right and that's… best."

Matthew breathes out something that could be interpreted as a laugh and then shakes his head, a wry sort of smile on his lips. "Bravery right there."

"Or stupidity."

"Both?"

"Could be both."

They smirk at each other for a moment before Matthew pushes up from the wall and runs a hand through his hair like it'll help. "Right, well… I doubt I'll be that brave, but find me and I'll definitely be this stupid with you again."

Tom laughs and watches with something similar to affection in his gut as Matthew opens the door, gives him one last fond look, and slips out into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind him and Tom gives himself a few minutes before he leaves. No point in inviting trouble. Especially since he already has what he was looking for.


End file.
